Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Fly for Supper
By Don Iannone

Tiny spider,
Tiny spider,
How stealthfully you crawl,
Across the floor and on up the wall,
You spin a quick web to snare your prey,
I'd guess you do this six times a day,
You sit so still, the whole time you stare,
Awaiting the big-eyed fly perched on the chair,
Somehow you know just when he will fly,
And land on the wall oh so high,
The fly flaps his wings starting his flight,
You imagine his landing perfectly right,
Off guard you catch him, he lands in your web,
And he is your supper just like I said.


defiant goddess said...

I love when we notice the little things and can express them creatively.

Don Iannone said...

Renee...thanks. Life is a mosiac painted with small and wonderful mysteries.

Zareba said...


A sunbeam caught in a spider’s web
Struggling to be free,
Dashing back and forth along each strand,
The sunbeam and me.
One last shimmering dash
And the sunbeam is free.
Could I but ride the sunbeam ……
I’ll learn. … …

I enjoyed your view of the spider web as well. ...Z

Don Iannone said...

Thanks Z. Lovely. We are all sunbeams and from time to time get caught...don't we.

Imemine said...

Good observation and notetaking. Excellent poem too.

Don Iannone said...

Thanks Imemine.

samuru999 said...

I do so enjoy all your poetry!
It is so good!

Don Iannone said...

Thanks Margie and I enjoy yours as well.

dumbdodi said...

Delightful poetry, Innocent as a child

Don Iannone said...

Dumbdodi...thank you. It was indeed just that way.

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